


No Apologies

by sutsop



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here, Angst, Drabble, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 08:42:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15433227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sutsop/pseuds/sutsop
Summary: Solas reflects on his failed relationship with Lavellan, with the aid of a bottle of Tevinter Red.





	No Apologies

He hadn’t been drunk in millenia. Tevinter red - her favorite. The only worthwhile thing that civilization had produced. 

He remembered the first time he’d seen her with drink. Cheeks flushed, giggling as he caught her mid-sway… “Come to bed with me,” she’d said. The wine had stiffened her resolve. He’d refused, but she’d been persistent. 

Sinking to her knees before him, “Let me do this for you, then.” His cock swelled as his resolve ebbed. He was weak, and so he let her. He let her take him in her mouth, warm and wet and soft fingers stroking up and down his length. He hadn’t been pleasured in millenia. 

He spilled himself across her tongue, feeling her moan around him as he came. Despite his weakness - physical, mental, moral - he felt strong watching her lap up every last drop of him. 

But he remembered that he was a benevolent god. When he buried his face between her thighs, she’d cursed them both - Solas and Fen’harel. He hadn’t pleasured a woman in millenia. But there were certain things one does not forget. 

Watching her squirm and moan, with just the barest flick of his tongue. Hearing her beg,  _ beg _ him for release. Holding her in his hand, on the tips of his fingers. What would she do? What would she give? Would she tell him to stop if she knew who he was -  _ really _ was? Or would she beg Fen’harel to keep fucking her, beg Fen’harel to make her come?

Sucking the taste of her off of his fingers after he broke her. That was the second when, indeed, he did feel like a god. Taken by the Dread Wolf. Already marked by his orb - his first foolish mistake - he would mark her again. Mistake after mistake, lie after lie. 

He was weak, and she was willing.

No. She was weak, and he had preyed. There was little point in lying anymore. 

He could tell himself everything he did was out of necessity. A convenient truth he could almost let himself believe. It didn’t explain what he had done to her, though. 

He saw her vulnerabilities, the cracks in the armor she’d crafted so carefully. He could see the bright spark underneath, and he’d not been able to sway himself away from the selfish desire to possess it. 

She granted him absolution with her sighs, a reprieve from what he sought to do to the broken image of this world. In the Fade and in the flesh. Even when he buried himself elsewhere - in books and memories and corners of dreams far away from her own - she waited. Patiently, she waited for Solas to return. She tolerated the snarls of Fen’harel, and let him wring out his guilt. 

In the end, he’d broken her just as he’d broken everything else. He was poison to everything he touched. 

“Is this really necessary?” Abelas chided. 

Yes, it was fucking necessary. Yes, he wanted to drink until he forgot. He didn’t need derision from remnants and relics.

Compassion had come to call that day.

_ “She is happy again.”  _

He would say nothing else. He knew he deserved little from Compassion anyhow. But there it was -  _ she is happy again. _

It was sick and selfish, but he’d hoped, if at the end of this journey there was anything other than death for them both…

He would be more patient. He would be more gentle. He would be everything he should have been and never was. She would understand. She would  _ see _ . And he could possess that bright spark once more. It had dimmed, but it had not been extinguished.

With the bottom of the bottle came dark thoughts.  _ Happy again _ … Replaced so quickly. 

Happy.  _ Happy. _ Was it simply that? A frilly cake or one of those hairless creatures the Spymaster kept could make her  _ happy. _ But Compassion wouldn’t come simply to tell him that. No, it had to be more. 

Was she in love? Was she pleased? Was she pleasured?

She was powerful. And she was beautiful - that much was undeniable, even to him. It would not be long before someone else was  _ sniffing _ around her… Would her old clan try to barter her off?

No, not after what he’d taken from her. The slave markings, tarnishing her beauty, mocking him with every glance. 

Who else, then? Obviously not the Tevinter. Nor the dwarf. The Qunari would fuck her were she willing, but no. 

No… No, he _ knew _ . The Commander, the Templar -  _ ex- _ Templar. He’d followed her around like a sad puppy, wagging his tail every time she so much as smiled at him.

Solas had made sure he understood early on. He’d asked the Commander to speak with him in his quarters later one evening. He’d arranged the happy coincidence of Ellana arriving shortly before. The blushing Fereldan had walked in to see his precious Herald of Andraste straddling the Apostate’s lap, skirts rucked up around her waist, his cock hilted inside her. 

And that had been that. It didn’t stop Ellana’s soft heart. But it did make sure that Cullen knew well who that heart belonged to. 

Perhaps it was for the best. 

He’d almost told her. But he’d been a coward in the end. 

What if he had? What if, what if, what if… It was too late for  _ what ifs _ . But those were what haunted him.

He’d spilled himself inside her, over and over. She’d drunk the tea, until he told her it wasn’t necessary. Some sliver of him, infinitesimally small, had hoped that perhaps he would be wrong. Perhaps it would take. Perhaps that would be enough to turn him from this path he walked. 

It never had, though. He Who Hunts Alone - isn’t that what the Dalish called him? 

He should feel  _ happy _ for her, but he only felt sad for himself. Selfish, foolish creature that he was. 

He would destroy her spark in the end. He would destroy her happiness in the end. 

She would die in someone else’s arms,  _ his  _ vhenan. 

  
  



End file.
